


Lover of The Light

by BlueWallTack (ConstableMichonne)



Series: Mercykill Week 2018 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, More comfort than hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstableMichonne/pseuds/BlueWallTack
Summary: After a difficult mission, Angela patches Gabriel up in more ways than one.





	Lover of The Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is super late for Mercykill Week but I really want to get all of these prompts out as soon as possible, even if they’re all not during the week. Day one’s prompt was freestyle, so I chose the theme “Sanguine”.

_“Whatever he had found, it made him a better person. Maybe that’s what love was, finding the person who brings out the best in you and eliminates the worst.”  ― Diana Holquist, Make Me a Match_

_Damn…,_  Gabriel inwardly cursed as he gripped his side, doing his hardest to ignore the throbbing pain. His team had gotten in less than an hour ago, and he had gone straight from their drop-off location to the Overwatch personnel quarters. A little pain wouldn’t normally send him looking for help, and he’d just spend the night with some gin and ice and wait for his super soldier healing to kick in. But the bleeding has yet to stop, and no amount of phasing seemed to help it.

He really didn’t want to go to her. As much as he wanted to see her, it was too late and she gets so little sleep already (knowing her, she might even still be awake). Yet since he didn’t want to have to explain his…condition to anyone else and he has no idea where O'Deorain is at this hour, it looks like he has no choice. Limping forward off the elevator, he leaned heavily against the wall, almost dragging himself across it until he reaches her door.

She answered after two quick knocks and immediately grabbed onto him, worried he might collapse on his feet. “Gabriel?” she asked, and he felt a stab of guilt at the confusion and worry etched on her face. “What happened?”

“Nothing big,” he said, carefully moving himself inside her apartment with her help and finding his way onto her couch. “I didn’t phase through the shot, but it should have healed by now. Can you patch me up?”

She nodded, positioning him on his uninjured side before rushing off into the bathroom. It’s not long before she returns to him with gauze, antiseptic, and a few of her surgical tools. No one knew that she kept a secret stock, and if they ever found out she could simply lie, stating that she always wished to be prepared.

“Have you slept?” Gabriel asked, then hissing as she tries so gently to relieve him of his hoodie and turtleneck running shirt. 

“Only a little, I’ve been busy.” Gasping, she takes in the sight of bloody bandages, hastily wrapped around his torso and already soaked through in sanguine. “How did you manage to sneak in like this?" 

"I’m sure someone saw me.” Not like they would stop him anyway. He was sure to get reprimanded by Jack tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be the first and he was certain it wasn’t the last. Discretion was one thing, but he dared Jack or anyone to try and keep him from her.

Shaking her head incredulously, she wipes the sweat off his forehead before pressing her lips against him, “you foolish man.”

“Still love me though.”

“I would love you much better without the late night gunshot wounds.”

Angela took a deep breath, and with her emotions set aside, she drove straight into his wound, examining it at all angles. Prodding the surface with careful tools and careful hands alike, she searched the still mending flesh for answers until her eye caught the sight of a small metal bit shining against the light of her lamp.

“Your body is healing too fast, the wound is trying to close around the bullet shards,” she said, not looking up from where she was attempting to pick the pieces of metal out. “Typically, that shouldn’t cause any problems, but the way your phasing functions, you’re probably incapable of maintaining stability around highly charged pulse objects.”

“O'Deorain might have mentioned that,” he grunted out, gripping the edge of the sofa above him when she made contact with particularly soft spot, “said she still had some kinks to work out.”

Angela did not answer. Moira had always been a touchy spot for her (she didn’t speak to him for weeks after the Venice fiasco), and she only barely tolerated her continuing work on the man she loved for his sake. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that since O'Deorain’s secret experiments began, the more she’s found Gabriel at her door.

“At least it keeps me alive.”

She looked up, gifting him with a weary smile and whispered, “I know.”

“I’m sorry for barging in like this.”

“As long as you stay alive, I’ll never mind.” She sets her tweezers aside and reaches for the sewing needle, swiftly beginning to stitch the gash the bullet made. 

“Angie,” he said with a voice so gentle he could hear her skip a breath, “why are you still here?”

She didn’t stop her stitching as she answered, “you know why, I could never leave now.”

“Things are only getting worse. Even I can’t wait to be done with this.” He couldn’t lie and say that there weren’t times he would lay in bed at night and wish he could pull the trigger himself, to look Jack and everyone else in the eye as he watched Overwatch go down in flames. Maybe that was the cause of all his reckless behavior as well, a weird hope that he can save himself the trouble of what comes after by falling before this sad story ends.

“You don’t mean that, else you would have left years ago.”

“But why stay?” He reached out, his hand resting over hers, forcing her to hold his serious gaze. “You’re too good for this.”

Angela sighed. “If things are getting worse, let them. They can also get better." 

Gabriel sighed, resting his head back against the arm of the sofa. Turning back to her work, she continued, "if I can make things better I will. If I can heal, if I can save lives, I will. And if this blows up in all our faces, I will try to soften them as much as I can.”

“I can’t say I wanted to join Overwatch when Jack asked, or that I approve of everything that we do, but I can’t leave now. It’s not in my nature.” Tying off the last end of the thread, she faced him again. “I don’t believe it’s in yours either.”

He wanted to tell her to stop, that she was wrong and that she was foolish for thinking he was anything more than what everyone else thought of him, including himself. But he can never seem to ignore the small part of him that wants nothing more than to believe her. It was such a kind and gentle thought, to think that one day they could sit like this, no blood stained cloth between them, and that he wouldn’t feel like he was taking someone not yet lost down with him. These thoughts were too gentle for him to hold bare in his hands, but he likes to picture it, that even when everything goes down there might be something left in him that’s still capable of love. 

She gave that picture to him, and for now he’ll spend every day thanking whoever in the universe blessed him by bringing her into his life, and wondering what he had done to deserve it.

“There,” she said after a long pause, standing up and clearing her supplies off the coffee table, “your stitches should fall out within a day but take care, you have a lot of bruising.”

Gabriel smiled, “I can manage that.”

She nodded and threw the soiled bandages away. Setting her remaining supplies back in their place and turning off the lights, she then crossed into her kitchen and came back to him with a small ice pad, laying it against his cheek. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he said, replacing her hand with his on the ice pack. He lifted his legs off the couch for her to join him, laying them across her lap once she settled close enough. Grabbing the light blankets off the basket on the floor, she draped one over him before doing the same for herself.

“Angie,” Gabriel whispered out, shifting to look at her face in the moonlight, “I love you.”

Angela smiled, reaching out under the blankets to take his hand in hers. “Rest, meine Liebe.”

“You too.”

Every day he could feel his soul lifted by her presence, and he understood why someone would throw away the world for the love of a single person. No matter what happened, whether he was damned to hell and back, he would treasure any time he had left with her. Maybe if he’s lucky, that time won’t be so short.


End file.
